Short Hulls Poems
Short Hulls Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hulls by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hulls by length and keyword.
Old ships come to die
on a silent beach;
once they ferried freight.
Side by side, they lie
broken hulls; now each
bide their rusty fate.
Image #1
Categories:
hulls, death,
Form:
Verse
For the guest of the boat owner...
Waves lapping on hulls
Water dances all around
It sings me to sleep
For the boat owner...
Asleep on the deep
When on a boat at anchor
Never deep asleep
Categories:
hulls, boat, sleep,
Form:
Haiku
Mice, rats, winter day clouds, coats, shawls.
Gray pants, tunics, bugles play calls.
Horses neigh for action hate stalls.
Ride hard brave scout.
Paint on iron battleship hulls
make rust stay out.
Categories:
hulls, color,
Form:
I do not know?
They sit, seldom still, naked
yet not silent - beckoning,
like a wind chime concert
of tapping halyards,
wave slapped hulls and
groaning lines where freedom hints
to their captains, "To sea, to sea".
Categories:
hulls, boat,
Form:
Free verse
Harbouring
relationships
upon the ocean
floor.
Beneath the frothing,
rolling waves
that pound my broken
core.
Polluted waters
sifting pain,
tear the hulls
apart.
Coursing wildly
through my veins,
leaves just a broken
heart.
Categories:
hulls, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
Markmanship, hunting and nature walks
are the activities of choice.
Anything is fine as long as Dad
and son are together,
Two peas in a pod.
Round green, black eyes,
purple hulls, zipper full.
Any kind is good in its own way.
Categories:
hulls, father, funny, son
Form:
Free verse
Astonied for blinking your eyes
Sab sequently you welcome the blinds
Tension hulls and bury their hearts
O's defined their titles
Naming silent motions
If you can live; really you can die
Ending defines success and failure
Defying the recognized surprise.
Categories:
hulls, life,
Form:
Acrostic
the moored hulls
drop
down in the haze
rise again
like wet birds
the boats slip
in and out
of the mist
come back painted by
distant seas
wet ropes squeak
rigging rattles as they list
water is shipped
whitecaps last seen
in a shipwrecked
china teacup
Categories:
hulls, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
River boats
drop down into sunken fog,
return
as buoyant as swimming seagulls.
A deep diving sky
spindrifts the hulls,
decks now ship airy waves
from far away seas.
The craft ride high and low
on this muted swell,
a cresting last beheld
in a shipwrecked China teacup.
Categories:
hulls, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Precious counter-weights
ships utilized for sailing,
ballast stones got dumped offshore.
But in empty hulls
sailors found common boulders
held incalculable worth.
(Sedoka)
03/14/2020
Pick-A-Title, Vol 15 - Sedoka - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen - "Ballast"
Categories:
hulls, 10th grade, 11th grade, 9th grade, image,
Form:
Sedoka
Picture a junkyard in your mind
a weed infested field covered with rusting hulls
that once were dear
to someone
some met with violent ends
wrecked in the prime of their lives
others were simply cast aside
no longer needed
or wanted
superimpose a homeless shelter
over the scene of the junkyard
how strange
they overlap and become
the same
Categories:
hulls, life
Form:
I do not know?
Ode To Our Raccoon’s
By: Tom Wright
1-18-2020
Around two thirty most mornings,
I gaze out the rear window and see.
A family of Raccoon’s foraging,
on pecans from under our tree.
Pecan hulls litter the sidewalks,
but of these morsels I won’t deprive.
For I realize It’s one of God’s creatures,
doing its best to just survive.
Categories:
hulls, animal, god, nature,
Form:
Lyric
It greets me at daybreak
That subtle stench of fog
Tinged by yesterday’s fish.
A rhythmic chatter
Tide tormented boats
Counting coup on weary hulls.
Voices lost in a drone of tedium.
Another day captured
In the same colors, and textures
Of an endless moment.
Time, entrenched in a now,
Tethered to a then
Anchored to a distant shore.
©8/12/2023
Categories:
hulls, community, life, work,
Form:
Free verse
The hulls of small boats
drop down into the morning fog
then return like rising seagulls.
The moored
slip in and out of the mist
then return painted
by a deep diving sky.
Sinking or flying, the small craft
slip through our vision
like leaking ghosts.
They roll upon an obscure air
shipping cloudy waves,
a swell last seen
in shipwrecked teacups.
Categories:
hulls, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
I listen to Door County sing
to Death’s door, where waters meet
Green Bay, Lake Michigan and everything,
wonders of the north I greet.
I listen to fathers and their sons
the builders of ships in Sturgeon Bay,
the hulls they build so strong
and the joy when they are sent on their way.
The Maritime Museum tells the tales
of many brave young adventurers
who from the shores set sail.
Categories:
hulls, appreciation, celebration, inspirational, tribute,
Form:
Ode
A slow twist of an invisible slide
and the hulls again escape,
drop down into the morning haze,
return as gray gulls rising.
The moored boats
slip in and out of the fog
as easily as ocean legends
then come back
painted by a distant sea.
Sinking or flying
the small craft slip through a sky
only as wide as the river,
but when they return
they ship water last seen
in a shipwrecked teacup.
Categories:
hulls, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse
Households unhitch so readily.
We watch incredulous as they float off,
hulls creaking,
rafters cracking like wind-lashed rigging.
Where we once believed roots gripped bedrock
now shiftless boards bob in the swell.
Domesticity tumbles out.
Bed springs gape,
a chest-of-drawers turns, inside out.
The everyday innards of a dwelling, face up,
barely floating:
a sure sign of those about to drown.
Categories:
hulls, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
a thunderstorm passing over -
gun turrets flash
gray hulls rumble and roll
above tumultuous clouds
evening commences to weep -
a damp emotive capsizing
that barely touches upturned faces
as seafaring battles go
it was a sky-skirmish
of near misses
a backwash of electric fizz
the distant sound
of sailors shouting for rum
light blinks
shipping damp echoes
that drip
into a salty bucket
of silence
Categories:
hulls, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Does anything look more serene
Than sailboats in a harbor scene?
Their stark white jibs and hulls that glide
A sense of peace and calm provide.
I've only seen them from the shore,
Not having been in one before,
But I am grateful they're a'sea
When near the water I can be.
Though other boats with foamy wakes
Look lovely, I would wager stakes
That none of them with sudsy trails
Could soothe like any boat with sails.
Categories:
hulls, peace,
Form:
Rhyme
The cogs of time
are creaking to life.
The time has come for me to shoulder my
responsibility and become a man.
No, it hasn't.
It is time to shut up.
It's time for everyone to shut up.
Not time to think; thinking is an eternal funnel.
Time to grind the stones;
harvest the aeons of work.
The bounties of our travels,
Endless musty rooms of crystals and trinkets
are pulverized by the hulls
of twisted, shapeless juggernauts.
Categories:
hulls, school,
Form:
Free verse
Back Creek Sounds
Rhythmic wave crescendos,
Like dynamic static of radios,
Tinkling and gurgling noises,
As liquid over rocks poises,
Ospreys shriek at laughing gulls,
Slapping water on slicing hulls,
Burping diesels add staccatos,
Winds strum mast-stay legatos,
Sails fill or flap by whispered pressure,
Bouys gong in the background with hauture,
As my toes on the sand go crunch,
Shouts my stomach, “Seafood for lunch”.
Categories:
hulls, boat, life, nature,
Form:
Light Verse
moored hulls sink lower
in a rising haze
as ghost ships
they slowly surface
when the sky
finds a patch of clarity
again and again
the vessels slip
in and out of the mist
only to come back painted by
distant seas
farther horizons
that ship deep-sea spume
over anchored hulls
wet ropes creak
rigging rattles
as a foaming fog washes
over prows
unseen gulls call
summoning visions
of whitecaps last seen
in a shipwrecked
china teacup
Categories:
hulls, poetry,
Form:
Free verse